


Rodney Versus the Wraith

by Brumeier



Series: Monster Fest [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: ushobwri, Gen, Kidnapping, Rescue, Team, Wraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rodney gets kidnapped by the Wraith he finds himself facing a very unusual problem, one that may prove the undoing of the Wraith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rodney Versus the Wraith

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Undead week of Monster Fest at the [You Should Be Writing](http://ushobwri.livejournal.com/) community on LJ.

[ ](http://s229.photobucket.com/user/mommybruno/media/Title%20Cards/RodneyVersustheWraith-1.jpg.html)

* * *

“I’m not that kind of doctor!” Rodney protested for the umpteenth time. He knew better than to struggle against the faceless Wraith foot soldiers that had hold of his arms, but there was no restraining his mouth. “I can’t do what you want me to do! And I don’t normally say that!”

This was clearly the downside of being the smartest man in two galaxies, and Rodney supposed it would’ve come to bite him in the ass eventually. He supposed it was lucky that it happened here, in a decrepit village that had clearly been culled to extinction, instead of up in a Hive ship where his chances of escape or rescue would be much diminished. 

Rodney was all but dragged into a building that must’ve served as a sort of jail once upon a time, because he was shoved into a cell. The door was a mixture of metal and that thick, organic webbing that the Wraith so loved to use and that smelled like sunbaked road kill. He was loathe to touch it but couldn’t help giving the door a shake anyway, just to be sure. If there was anything he’d learned from Major Sheppard it was that he couldn’t sit around and wait for rescue, not if he could help himself.

A growl behind him had Rodney whirling around, his back pressed against the webbing. He’d forgotten why the Wraith had gone to so much trouble to nab him. A mistake, as he’d told the Queen who’d taken leave of her Hive ship to terrify him for a good half hour. Surely they’d wanted Carson, who’d have actually been helpful in this situation with his grasp of medical voodoo.

“Oh, no.”

When the task had been put to him Rodney hadn’t really believed it; like baby pigeons, baby Wraith seemed like a myth. Not even Carson was savvy to the reproductive hows and why-fors employed by the Wraith. With their lengthy life spans and long hibernation periods it didn’t seem that propagating was a big concern. And to be completely honest the thought of Wraith-on-Wraith relations was stomach-churning.

And yet Rodney was sharing a cell with a pint-sized space vampire, a female with lank red hair and a mouthful of pointed teeth that were currently being bared in a decidedly unfriendly fashion.

“Hey. Easy there.” Rodney held up his hands, heart racing almost painfully in his chest. “Let’s not be hasty and accidentally suck the life out of anyone.”

He had no means of defending himself, even against a Wraith who couldn’t be more than six years old by human standards. They’d taken his P90, his combat knife, and his tablet. The only things he had at his disposal were Power Bars, a first aid kit, and his abysmal hand-to-hand skills. Rodney promised himself more sessions with Teyla if he ever made it back to Atlantis.

The little Wraith didn’t make a move in his direction so they ended up just staring at each other across the cell. Since there was no immediate threat to his continued existence Rodney was able to more fully assess the situation. The Queen had told him the little Wraith was sick and none of their kind knew what the problem was. Even Rodney could see that she wasn’t well – her face was too thin and the typical curdled milk complexion was even waxier than normal.

“So, uh…do you have a name? I’m Rodney. Rodney McKay.” He pointed to himself, feeling idiotic. 

They’d never gotten any personal information from the Wraith they’d encountered, including names. One of the linguists had posited that they didn’t have names for themselves, something to do with their hive structure. Even Rodney, who didn’t really care about that branch of so-called science, thought it was an idiotic hypothesis. The Wraith had written language and advanced technology, of course they had names. They just never felt the need to share them. Given Sheppard’s propensity for naming things it would really be in the best interests of the Wraith to be more forth-coming.

“Of course you have a name. And I’m sure it’s, uh, lovely.” The little Wraith moved, just a slight shift to the left, but Rodney immediately tensed back up. “Your Queen wants me to help you! And I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean as food. Even vampires recognize that my genius is best left intact. Right? Can you understand me?”

He was starting to think that maybe he needed to spend some time on the problem the Queen had presented to him, if for nothing more than to buy himself some time. The little Wraith wasn’t getting rejuvenated during feedings the way the others did. Bad news for her, hopefully good news for him.

“Can you hold up your feeding hand?” Rodney held up his own hand in demonstration. “I need to see it.”

The little Wraith watched him, yellow eyes wide, but she held up her hand. It looked like a perfectly normal Wraith hand – slit in the middle of the palm surrounded by retractable barbs to help the hand remain fastened to the victim’s chest. It was gruesome, but it didn’t tell him much. The actually feeding mechanism was beneath the skin, between the bones and tendons.

“So. That looks normal. You can put it down now.” Rodney carefully slid down until he was sitting on the floor, which hopefully made him less threatening to his cell mate. “I don’t know anything about human physiology, much less yours. I tried to tell the Queen but she wouldn’t listen. I don’t know how to help you.”

He didn’t like failing, even when he had no expectation of success. It was a no-win situation in any case; he was under no illusion that he’d be allowed to just leave, regardless of the outcome.

The little Wraith let out a sharp cry and curled up in a little ball, arms wrapped around her stomach. Rodney winced in sympathy. “Are you having cramps? Are you hungry?”

He didn’t understand why there wasn’t some sort of procedure in place when feedings went wrong. He felt a twinge of sympathy and reminded himself that she wasn’t really a little girl, she was a monster who’d just as soon eat him as look at him if she were in her right mind.

Rodney’s own stomach was starting to growl, so he pulled out a Power Bar. The little Wraith stilled as soon as the wrapper crinkled. “Sorry. It’s just some human food, and since I’m human, well. You know.”

It was chocolate chip, one of his favorites, and he had to stifle his little noise of pleasure when he took the first bite. It distracted him enough that he wasn’t prepared for the Wraith, who shot across the cell in a blur of movement and snatched the protein bar out of his hand.

“Hey!” Rodney put his arms up defensively, hands clenching into fists, but all the little Wraith wanted was the Power Bar, which she quickly gobbled up.

“Feed,” she said, pawing at Rodney’s tac vest. “Feed.”

Rodney was reminded of that cheesy movie about the killer venus flytrap from outer space as he hastily pulled out another bar; he barely had time to unwrap it before the little Wraith was jamming it into her mouth. He goggled at her.

“You need _food_? That’s why you’re sick?”

The Wraith made happy grunting noises in reply. Rodney’s thoughts raced. A Wraith who received no life-sustaining nutrients from feeding on humans? Was that an evolutionary step for the Wraith or merely a genetic aberration? Carson would be beside himself to study her, to try and figure her out. Maye the little Wraith was the key to defeating her own kind.

“More,” she said. There was a smudge of chocolate at the corner of her mouth and Rodney thought she already looked less pale.

“I only have one left and no offense, but I have hypoglycemia and I need it more than you right now.” He batted her hand away when she tried digging into one of his pockets. “Stop that! You can’t have it!”

The little Wraith scowled at him and he scowled right back. “You don’t intimidate me. I have a sister.”

Rodney wondered if his cellmate had a family. Were there parents on the Hive ship worried about her? Was she a future queen or would she be kept for breeding purposes? Were their young born, or manufactured in a lab? Part of the problem with fighting the Wraith was that they just knew so little about them.

The little Wraith yawned and curled up in Rodney’s lap, empty wrapper clutched in her hand. It was an odd circumstance to find himself in, one he was sure the others would never believe without hard evidence. Rodney wasn’t a huge fan of kids, human or otherwise, but for a moment he was reminded of Jeannie’s warm weight on his lap while he read her picture books. He looked down at the Wraith’s little red head speculatively. He wondered how intelligent she was, if she could be taught to think outside the narrow confines of feed-sleep-feed. 

While the little Wraith slept, Rodney plotted.

*o*o*o*

It was nearly an hour before the guards came again, hauling Rodney to his feet and dislodging the little Wraith, who scuttled back into the corner with a snarl when one of the guards aimed a kick at her. Rodney felt a spark of anger beneath the fear as he was led back across the deserted square to face the Queen again. He didn’t like being manhandled, and some heretofore unknown part of him didn’t care for the callous nature with which they were treating one of their own children. Heightmeyer would probably have a field day.

“What have you discovered?” The Queen was tall and thin, her long red hair partially braided. She reclined in a chaise upholstered in brown leather, looking like some twisted B-movie version of a Victorian woman on a fainting couch.

“I told you I’m not that kind of doctor!” Rodney snapped. “I’m a physicist, I don’t know anything about genetics or biology.”

The Queen narrowed her eyes at him. “You are Doctor McKay. We have heard much talk about your feats of wonder. It is said you can fix anything.”

“Not people! Computers, Ancient tech, yes. Of course. But that little Wraith isn’t a computer.”

“Is the brain not a computer?” 

That caught Rodney up short. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Wraith technology was far more rooted in biology than any other tech Rodney had come in contact with, their machines fashioned of equal parts writing and thick, membranous flesh and biological conduits. It was equal parts fascinating and disgusting.

“I’m not a neurologist. If you want to help her, get her food. Real food, that kind you eat with your mouth.” Rodney mimed the action without even realizing it. “She needs to eat, not feed. I don’t know if it’s an enzyme problem, or a genetic problem, but you have to give her food.”

The Queen’s lip curled up in distaste. “I was correct. The young one is an abomination.”

“This seems like a pot and kettle situation, and I’m really not equipped to debate morality with you. So if you’ll just cut me loose –”

The Queen pushed up off the chaise, her expression turned predatory. Rodney took a step back, bumping up against the guards.

“There are some of my kind that begin the young ones with eating by mouth. My Hive has not done so since my mother’s mother was Queen. It is unnatural and unnecessary.” She pushed right into Rodney’s personal space. “It is better to feel the life force moving under the skin, absorbed into every cell. I would like to taste you, Doctor McKay.”

The feeding hand came up, the gash in the palm incredibly menacing so close up. Rodney was certain that his heart actually stopped beating for a second, but before she could press that demon hand to his chest there was a very loud explosion from somewhere outside. What glass remained in the windows shattered and Rodney was nearly knocked off his feet.

“Finally!” He used the distraction to duck under the Queen’s arm and make a run for it. Down one corridor and then another, accompanied by the sound of automatic weapons fire and Wraith stunner pulses. He reached the outside door and flung it open. Unfortunately Sheppard was standing on the other side and it clipped him in the face, opening a gash on his forehead.

“Fuck!”

“Major! Excellent timing as always.” Rodney dodged around him and ran for the building with the holding cell.

“McKay, what are you doing?” Sheppard chased after him, bleeding. 

The village was full of Marines, which Rodney found quite gratifying. He could only assume that Teyla and Ford were nearby as well.

“We need to go!” Sheppard grabbed hold of his arm but Rodney shook him off.

“Five minutes, Major. Four if you stop pestering me.”

Sheppard scowled, and Rodney could almost hear his teeth grinding. It didn’t stop him from bursting through the door to the holding cell and barreling right into to the guard that had been left on duty. He lifted the cell key before catching an elbow to the solar plexus that sent him staggering, gasping for air. Sheppard took care of the guard, going through most of his ammo in the process, while Rodney got his breath back.

“Time to go!” The little Wraith was curled into a protective ball, hands over her head, when Rodney unlocked the door. He produced the last Power Bar and held it out to her. “Come on. You know you want it. Feed, remember?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Sheppard hissed. He was standing right behind Rodney, P90 trained on the girl. “You want to bring home a souvenir?”

“Trust me, we need her. I’ll explain later.”

The little Wraith edged closer, eyes on the prize, and as soon as she got close enough Rodney relinquished the Power Bar and scooped her up; she was too busy eating to offer up a protest.

“Let’s go!” Rodney pushed past Sheppard. “Before the whole Hive comes down here.”

The puddlejumper was waiting just outside of the village with Teyla guarding the open rear hatch. The charred remains of two Darts smoked steadily nearby, clearly ground zero for the explosion. Sheppard thumbed his earpiece as he preceded Rodney into the ‘jumper. 

“Everyone fall back. The package is secure.”

“Package? I’m not a piece of luggage.”

“Shut up and get in, McKay.”

Teyla’s eyes widened as Rodney brushed past her. The little Wraith had made short work of the Power Bar and was clinging tightly to Rodney’s neck. He plopped himself down in the co-pilot’s seat just as Sheppard brought up the HUD. He rearranged the little Wraith so that he had better access to the instrument panel.

“Is the Gate still open?”

“Not for long,” Sheppard replied tersely. The last Marine slipped in the back and banged twice on the hull, the signal that they were cleared to leave.

“Shields up!” The ‘jumper was quickly airborne and they zipped away from the village. Hopefully they’d reach the Gate before more Darts were deployed from the Hive ship to follow them.

“McKay to Atlantis. I need Carson and his team in the ‘jumper bay immediately. I’m bringing in a baby Wraith.”

 _Say again, Dr. McKay. A baby what?_ Elizabeth’s voice sounded incredulous over the radio connection.

“Wraith. She’s not a danger to us. Repeat, not a danger.”

_Copy that. Sounds like you have an interesting report to make._

“How’s she not dangerous?” Ford asked from his seat behind Sheppard. “She’s one of _them_.”

“She needs food to stay alive,” Rodney explained. It was possible he came across a bit defensive. “She won’t hurt us, she can’t feed that way.”

He could feel three sets of skeptical eyes trained on him, but Rodney knew they’d come around. The fact that they’d trusted him enough to even let her on board was pretty telling; they’d become a team in more than just name. Still, it was Sheppard they’d all take their cues from, and Rodney was grateful that the first question out of his mouth was so innocuous. 

“So does your friend here have a name?” 

The Gate came into view and Rodney was relieved to see it. He was sure Sheppard was already thinking of some goofy name for the little Wraith, but this time Rodney was way ahead of him. He’d had one particular name in mind since he’d had that thought about _Little Shop of Horrors_ earlier.

“Audrey. Her name is Audrey.”

Sheppard quirked an eyebrow at him and Rodney just stared back until the Major smirked and nodded. “Audrey. Works for me.”

The little Wraith started feeling around the vest pockets, undoubtedly looking for more food. Rodney almost couldn’t wait to introduce her to food beyond Power Bars to see her reaction.

“Anyone have a Power Bar?” Rodney asked as the ‘jumper crossed the event horizon and headed home.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** This is the most Wraith-centric fic I’ve written to date, because when the topic is vamps my first thought is always the space vampires of SGA. The idea of Rodney interacting with a very young Wraith just popped into my head and I ran with it. The name Audrey is borrowed from the name of the homicidal plant in The Little Shop of Horrors, the one that said “Feed me, Seymour!” ::grins::


End file.
